


Obtuse

by Fyre



Category: Castle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-16
Updated: 2010-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ricky Rodgers didn’t have the most regular of childhoods, but it was an awesome childhood all the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obtuse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HopefulNebula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefulNebula/gifts).



> This is something of a companion piece to [Triangle](http://archiveofourown.org/works/139288) and [Acute](http://archiveofourown.org/works/139633). I know it's technically not what you requested, but Martha is pushy and wanted time with her boy :)

Ricky Rodgers didn’t have the most regular of childhoods, but it was an awesome childhood all the same.

For someone living in New York, with a mom working the Broadway and off-Broadway circuit, he guessed it was sort of normal, but for the kids he went to school with, it was way out there. Most of them had two parents and usually, only one of them was working in some big job in the city.

He had a nanny, which was kind of normal, even if the nanny wasn’t half as smart as she thought. It was way too easy to persuade her he was sick, and shouldn’t go to school. And when he did go to school, he was good at forging his mom’s signature to get out of class, so he could go to the library instead.

It probably wasn’t the most rebellious way to spend his time when he skipped class, but when his mom was taking him along to premieres and having parties every night, skipping school to try and sneak into a bar just wasn’t any fun.

Anyway, the library was a neat place to spend time.

He liked books.

He liked girls too, but when girls were being tricky, books were steady and stable, and he could take his time with them.

He loved stories, working out how the twist in the tale would happen, how the villains would be beaten and the heroes would win. He especially liked crime thrillers, because some of them had the best twists imaginable. Some didn’t, but then, he could imagine how he would do it better.

So yeah, it wasn’t an conventional childhood, but it was a happy one.

Even if his mom wasn’t around all the time, she was there when it mattered.

One of the most memorable occasions was when he was at his third High School. He was hauled into the Principal’s office for fighting with some rich asshole’s son again. He was sitting as all the best teenagers do, arms folded and glaring at the front of the desk, when his mom strode in as if she owned the place, elegant skirts swirling. She pulled off her gloves to lay them deliberately on the desk.

That was the best thing about having a mom who was an actress. Other people had moms who were businesswomen, or even some who were diplomats and probably even Royalty in their own countries. Ricky knew his mom was only an actress, but every day, she could be someone different, from a business woman to Royalty. He never knew who he would have breakfast with. This morning, she had been a 1920s diva, but now, she could scare the hell out of a Principal like a State Education Inspector.

“What, pray, is the problem, Mister Henderson?” she demanded, all sweetness and light. It sounded pleasant, but she was leaning on the desk, way too close and, she was smiling in the way that she had as Lady Macbeth.

Ricky lifted his eyes enough to watch the Principal squirm under his mom’s stare. He had only been fighting because someone had called out the fact that his mom wasn’t married, and the Principal knew it. It wasn’t like it was rare, but Ricky took more offence at his mom being called a whore than himself being called a bastard.

The Principal grudgingly explained, and Martha Rodgers became a Queen.

“I think,” she said haughtily, drawing icy pride around her like a mink stole, “you should consider who is the real offender here.” She straightened up. “Ricky, I think we should find you a new school. This place is clearly prejudiced. I’ll be sure to let all my associates know.” She shot an imperious look at the Principal. “And there are many of those.”

Before the Principal - who was sitting open-mouthed - could protest, she whirled and strode out of the room, Ricky caught in her wake.

She didn’t say a word until they were in a cab on the way home.

“Ricky,” she murmured.

“Sorry, mom.”

She looked at him in mild surprise. “Darling, don’t ever apologise when you are in the right,” she said. “It gives quite the wrong message.”

He blinked at her. “I’m not in trouble?”

She laughed and patted his hand. “My darling, it had been many years since any young man has stood up and defended my virtue,” she said fondly. “Perhaps you were fighting, but it was for your principles, though I cannot for the life of me imagine where you found them. Certainly not from me.” She smiled. "You have made a rather ageing lady rather proud.”

Ricky blushed. “Mom!”

She squeezed his hand gently. “I don’t mean to embarrass you, you silly boy,” she said. “I simply appreciate that you felt that I was worth defending.”

He shrugged, his face still red. “You’re my mom.”

“I have no doubts you would do the same if any such lady was treated with disdain,” she said with a smile. She released his hand and sat back comfortably, looking out of the cab window as the city flew by. “I’m very proud of you, Richard.”

Ricky sat, tongue-tied and blushing. Mom wasn’t one for compliments, unless it would get her a role, and for her to tell him something like that was about as rare as seeing blue snow.

“Mom?” he ventured quietly.

“Yes, dear?”

He glanced up at her. “Thanks.”

She laughed, easily and glamorously, her eyes shining. “Darling, do stop talking such nonsense,” she said, throwing her arm around his shoulder. “You know I only ever say what I think.”

Surprised by the arm around him, he leaned against her. “I love you, mom,” he confided into the broad collar of her coat.

She tapped his nose with her other forefinger. “You are growing quite sentimental.”

“Sorry,” he said, though he smiled.

“Darling,” she said with mock-sterness. “What did I tell you about apologising when you are in the right?”

“Don’t do it?” he replied.

She kissed him delicately on the forehead. “Precisely.”


End file.
